The Wistful Cipher
The candle gutters, turning the shadows in the room into restless, blackened shapes. I am Katerina Samaras. I have been the court’s chief cipher clerk for twelve years, a role that requires a steady hand and a tongue that knows when to be silent. Tonight, the silence is heavy, pressing against my eardrums like the water outside the island’s cliffs. On my desk lies the final letter from my...
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